


A New Beginning

by DarciDrake



Category: The Lone Gunmen (TV), The X-Files
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Modern Day, Sickfic, planning for the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarciDrake/pseuds/DarciDrake
Summary: The gunmen are home sick, and they finally take the time to consider the direction their life is taking.





	A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> "Jump the Shark" never took place. This story is set in current day.

"Try not to take an hour this time!" Frohike yelled, as Langly slammed the bathroom door shut for the fourth time that afternoon. "I told you we should have had another bathroom installed, Byers, at least a half bath."

"With what funds, exactly?" muttered Byers. His eyes barely opened to look over at Frohike, who was laying on the couch in his old gray sweatpants and the same shirt from the day before. It was after 2pm, but even Byers couldn't be bothered to put on his suit today. They were all sick. Well, all except for Jimmy, who hadn't been exposed to whatever bug they had caught on their recent undercover operation in New Jersey. 

"The funds we just wasted by going to New Jersey for no reason other than to get sick.”  
Frohike was still bitter about not getting any newsworthy information after putting himself at risk, yet again, in an undercover role he was hardly suited for. 

Byers closed his eyes and tried not to think about toilets. Their basement office was never supposed to be a home for four people in the first place. "Nothing can be done about it now Frohike. We can all discuss a renovation budget when we're feeling better."

"If I live that long..." Frohike mumbled, turning his body into the back of the couch. He hadn't slept more than 20 minutes at a time since he'd gotten sick two days ago. Langly started feeling sick almost immediately after Frohike, and Byers later that evening. They suspected they'd caught the flu from their contact in New Jersey, a man of dubious hygiene who had a habit of invading everyone's personal space. At least one of them wasn't sick. Jimmy had gone to pick up a short list of medicines and snacks for his friends. None of them were the doctor-visit type... After all, being self-employed investigative journalists doesn't exactly come with insurance benefits. And besides, they were far too paranoid to have their personal and medical information handed out freely unless absolutely necessary. No, they would have to survive this sickness with a little perseverance and a lot of complaining. 

* * *

At the store, Jimmy looked at the different types of thermometers to choose from, wanting something accurate but not too expensive. The gunmen never owned a thermometer, or anything else particularly useful for tending sickness. The cold medicine in the pantry expired two years ago, and the last time Jimmy had a fever, Langly had thrown a bag of frozen corn at him to put on his forehead. He picked out a digital thermometer and found all the medicines Byers had written on the list, plus some cookie dough ice cream (Langly’s favorite) that he was hoping they'd be able to keep down. He hated to see his friends like this. 

When Jimmy arrived home, Langly was back on the living room couch, curled up with a bathrobe insufficiently covering his undershirt and boxers.  
"Finally!" he mumbled as he looked over at Jimmy, squinting without his glasses. "Throw me something with some strong knockout drugs in it." Langly had slept less than the others, his migraine constantly pounding and making him rush to the bathroom at all hours. Jimmy brought over three water bottles and all the pills he had just bought.

Frohike inched over to make room on the couch and grabbed two bottles out of Jimmy's hands as soon as he sat beside him. 

"You shouldn't take two kinds at the same time!" Jimmy cried, as he watched Frohike toss four pills in his mouth. 

"I’ve lived this long haven’t I?" he replied sarcastically, as he tossed the bottles over to Langly and slowly sank back into the couch. Jimmy tried not to worry, but he had never seen his friends so sick before, all of them at the same time. He looked up to them for guidance, and now they needed his help, and he felt unqualified for the job.

"Jimmy...?" He snapped out of it. 

"Sorry Byers, what?"

"Did you get the hot chocolate?" asked Byers, slightly shivering even under his blanket. While Frohike and Langly were burning up, Byers had the chills and couldn't warm up even after a hot shower. 

"Oh yeah, just a second." Jimmy handed the rest of the pills to Byers and got up to make his friend a coffee with hot chocolate mixed in. Mochas were a guilty pleasure Byers had originally tried to hide from his friends, both avid fans of black, no **blacker** , coffee. But Jimmy saw him make one once when they were home alone together and told Byers they were his favorite. Ever since then, Byers would make mochas on Sunday mornings for the two of them. 

Since Jimmy had started working at the Lone Gunman newspaper he had tried his hardest to make friends with all three men equally, but it was obvious that their affections for him were not all the same. Maybe during a full moon if the wind conditions were just right, Langly would say something kind to Jimmy or involve him in a joke that he wasn't the butt of. But usually he felt that Langly only tolerated him. Frohike managed to insult him even more frequently than Langly, and Jimmy usually couldn't tell if he was being serious or joking. He hoped it was only Frohike's sense of humor, since Byers and Langly weren't immune to his insults either.

Byers wasn't like them though, he had always been kind to Jimmy since the beginning. Even when Jimmy had accidentally flipped their car into a bayou, Byers never raised his voice or threatened to fire him like Frohike often did. It seemed strange to him that Byers seemingly had no other friends besides those he lived with. Langly had his online gamer friends, and Frohike went out to play poker every now and then. But Byers always stayed in and worked, or watched a documentary on TV about some complicated subject that Jimmy couldn’t keep up with. Jimmy thought Byers might want to watch one of those shows now, since he was laying in the living room anyway and wasn't going anywhere. He turned the TV on and started scrolling down the guide looking for something Byers might like. 

"Are you seriously going to watch TV right now?" Langly asked with obvious agitation in his voice. "The sound of the ceiling fan is already making me regret having ears right now." 

Langly groaned as he slowly stood up from the sweat-soaked couch and painfully made his way back to his bedroom. The Lone Gunman offices didn't have central air, and the only window units were in the central area of the offices where they did their work. In the summer, the bedrooms were uncomfortably warm during the day but tolerable at night with small fans by the beds. Langly was already sweating through his clothes, but the sound of the TV would be torture for his migraine, so he retreated to the quiet of his small back room. 

Langly knew that Jimmy hadn't meant to annoy him. The logical part of his brain knew that Jimmy was never purposely trying to get in the way, or say stupid things, or break things. He just did those things because they were in his nature. It was a nature that Langly hadn't had to live with before, since Frohike and Byers were both exceedingly intelligent, even if he'd never say it to their faces. Getting used to Jimmy was like getting used to a spontaneous 6-foot tall golden retriever with a big wagging tail that knocked things over when he got excited. Byers was the patient one who would spend time trying to teach him the basics and pick up after his messes. Langly just tried to see the good intentions and hold his tongue when Jimmy was being utterly dense. He wasn't always successful. He remembered a time earlier that year that Jimmy had caught a bad cold and Langly and Frohike both told him to quarantine himself in his bedroom and not come out until he wasn't contagious anymore. Langly felt a small pang of guilt thinking about that... after all, Jimmy had been by their sides for the last 48 hours acting as nurse for all three of them.

He heard a small knock at the door. "Hey Langly?"

It was Jimmy, of course. His other friends were practically immobile. 

"Yeah, what?"

Jimmy poked his head in the door but didn't come all the way in. Langly had a tendency of snapping at him for small things like that. 

"I didn't mean to hurt your head with the TV noise. I brought you my fan so you can nap in here with two fans." Jimmy held his fan up and waited for permission to bring it in. 

"Uh.. yeah thanks. It is pretty hot in here I guess, but I would be sweating anyway 'cuz of this flu or whatever." Langly replied, and reached out for the fan.

Jimmy walked over and plugged it in on the floor, pointing it toward the bed. 

"That's good. Thanks." 

He was feeling guilty. Jimmy would probably do anything he asked, and Langly rarely returned that kindness. But he didn't have the energy to reconsider his entire character right at that moment. He just wanted to sleep. 

* * *

Frohike was listening to the TV with his eyes closed, waiting for the meds to start working. He was kicking himself for getting them all sick. It was his idea to go to New Jersey, and it was his contact who had surely spread the germs or virus causing all their misery. But he wouldn't admit to it out loud, obviously. It wouldn't matter anyway, what was done was done. What definitely wasn't 'done' was the story for next month's newspaper. They hadn't gotten any good information and now he felt that it was his responsibility to come up with something before the deadline, even if he was on his deathbed. Or, death couch, in his case. 

Jimmy had offered to help, but the idea was laughable. Jimmy might be good for pushing the VW bus when they run out of gas, but a journalist he was not. Frohike didn't trust Jimmy to file emails let alone write one to a potential source, but he appreciated the genuine offer nonetheless. Despite all his flaws, Jimmy had begun to grow on Frohike. He might be a slow learner, but he knew right from wrong and had his friends' best interests at heart. Which explains why he was in the restroom for the.. fourth? time today spraying down the sink and toilet, trying to restrict the spreading of more germs. 

Frohike turned his attention to the migrating penguins on the TV. Byers wasn’t overly interested in wildlife documentaries, but there weren’t a lot of choices and this was something that didn’t require too much mental energy. It was actually kind of relaxing for Byers, to shut his brain off for an hour and stare at fuzzy baby penguins who were probably just as cold as him right now. The gunmen didn’t have much time for TV these days. All of them were feeling the pressure of getting stories that would garner enough attention to boost sales and maybe make a profit for once. 

Over the last few months they had barely been breaking even. Byers had long been feeling the sting of failure as newspaper sales dwindled down to only a couple hundred loyal subscribers. The paper had been his brainchild, his attempt to expose the government’s secret agendas against an unsuspecting public. But as time went on, the public didn’t seem be very interested in conspiracies or security concerns. If anything, people were more trusting than ever, willingly handing over their personal information to any app or website that asked. The public would be temporarily outraged at a social injustice only long enough for another one to come along. Byers didn’t know how to capture the casual reader’s attention anymore, and it was making him question their newspaper’s very existence. 

While Byers pondered his life’s purpose, Frohike noticed his friend’s expression and decided to break the silence. “Hey man, you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine”, Byers lied. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you look even worse than I feel right now. Is it because that baby penguin got lost? Because he probably finds his parents, these shows are always trying to create drama where there isn’t any.” 

Byers cracked a small smile. He knew Frohike wasn’t being serious, but he went along with it just to lighten the mood.  
“Yeah, I was worried about him, but you’re probably right. Penguins are pretty good about parenting, or so I hear. They’ll find him.”

“Well you’ll have to fill me in on the details later, I’m headed to bed.” Frohike replied with a groan as he pried himself off the death couch. “Maybe we’ll all feel better in the morning”. 

It was barely after sunset, but there was hardly any reason to stay awake just to enjoy the plague symptoms overtaking his body. Frohike walked past Langly's room and heard a soft snoring - a positive sign. Langly needed the sleep, and Frohike was hoping to get a solid 14 hours thanks to the Nyquil he had just taken. Jimmy came out of the bathroom wearing rubber gloves and holding several dirty towels. 

"Hey Frohike, how are you feeling?"

"Just peachy. What do you think?" Frohike replied, regretting his tone without even looking to see Jimmy's reaction. "But thanks for the meds, and for cleaning. I'm going to bed.”

"Sure thing, hope it helps.” Jimmy said with a slight smile. Frohike grunted and closed his bedroom door behind him. As Jimmy was taking the dirty towels to the laundry, he saw Byers sitting on the recliner with his head in his hands. 

"Byers, are you going to be sick again? Do you need anything?"

Besides a new direction in life? "No Jimmy," Byers replied, "I'm actually feeling a little better physically, thanks to the medicine. I'm just thinking."

Jimmy set all his cleaning supplies by the washer and made his way to the sofa. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked with a half smile. He knew that Byers didn't like to talk about personal feelings very much, but out of the three, he'd be the most likely to do so. 

"It's just.... I've been thinking about the paper." he paused, took a drink of water, and continued. "It's just that we haven't been selling many papers, not as many as we used to. And I don't know if we're really making any difference in the world like I thought we were." 

Jimmy waited for Byers to continue, but he didn't. He just stared miserably into his glass of water. 

"You know Byers, I've been thinking about that. About how sales have been down and all that. And I had sort of an idea… if you’d want to hear it?”

Byers looked up from his glass, eyebrows raised, but didn’t speak. 

Jimmy continued, “I mean, I know I'm not an expert journalist or anything, but I've been hearing you talk all this time about being proactive. About how you three are trying to… protect people from corruption and, you know, all that bad stuff from the government before it happens to them. But sometimes people just aren't very proactive about their own stuff, you know? Sometimes, people don't pay attention until it's too late."

"Jimmy what are you talking about?" Byers asked with a pained expression. 

"I guess what I mean is, people don't always want to buy newspapers about things that happen to other people, or things that didn't even happen at all, because you guys stopped it, if you know what I mean."

"No, Jimmy, I don't know what you mean."

Jimmy was never good at explaining things, they always sounded better in his head than when he said them out loud.

"I was thinking that you guys could start helping people that have had their identities stolen. You wrote in the last paper that millions of people every year have their identity stolen on the internet. And since you guys are really good with computers, I thought you could help people catch the bad guys who are stealing them. You could advertise in your own paper, and online.” 

Jimmy looked to Byers for some feedback, but Byers just stared at him. “I was just thinking… some people are too caught up in their own worlds to care about buying newspapers, but then something bad happens to them and then they need help. And you guys could help them." Jimmy finished with a smile, glad to have gotten his point across somewhat coherently. 

Byers sat in silence, looking at Jimmy, then back at his cup. He wasn't sure what to think. A side business? Where would they find the time? But then again, they had been spending their time on the paper for years and have almost nothing to show for it, financially speaking. Helping people was what Byers always wanted to do. And Jimmy was right, they were good with computers, especially Langly. Maybe helping everyday people battle the hackers who stole their identities could be their new mission. He looked up at Jimmy who was absently staring at the penguin family reunion on the TV. 

“That’s an interesting idea Jimmy, something to discuss with Frohike and Langly in the morning. It’s something we could do alongside The Lone Gunman. We could do more stories on identity theft and then offer to help other victims, like you said.” 

Jimmy smiled and took Byers’ empty cup from his hands. “I’m glad you like the idea, I wasn’t sure what you guys would think.”

As he filled up the cup with more water from the fridge, Byers sat back in the recliner and accepted the fact that he would be awake all night thinking about a new business. A new beginning in a changing world of virtual crime.

* * *

“Just throw a blanket on him or something, we need more air circulation in here, stat!” 

Byers could hear Langly and Frohike in the living room arguing over the air conditioning, but he was too tired to open his eyes right away. Frohike always wanted to keep the electricity bills down and rarely let anyone turn the AC down below 75 degrees, but he finally relented. It did smell like several sick journalists had been sweating in there for days. Right as the AC kicked on and he felt a cool breeze hit him, Byers felt a second blanket drape over his legs as Jimmy swooped in with the save. He had only fallen partially asleep, the thoughts of their potential new business constantly circulating in his mind. He smelled the coffee brewing and forced himself to open his eyes and sit up. 

“Hey he’s alive!” Langly reported to the others. “Want some coffee, Byers?” 

“Yes, thank you. And thanks Jimmy, for the blanket. But I’m not feeling as cold as I was last night.”

“You’re feeling better? I think all of us are over the worst of it then.” Frohike replied, pouring a hot cup of black coffee for himself. “We are NOT going back to New Jersey, let’s consider that mission done-zo and start over with something less contagious. What do you guys think about listening in on ISS transmissions? Who knows what those Russians are talking about.”

“Actually, Frohike, Jimmy had an idea last night that I thought you and Langly might consider.”

Frohike laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. “Jimmy had an idea? For a story? Let me guess, does it involve a conspiracy in the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Aw come on Frohike,” Langly added, “Jimmy’s been here long enough to know that the real government secrets would only be passed through Chuck E. himself. We need a giant rat costume ASAP.” They both laughed, and Jimmy smiled out of habit. He tried to remember what Byers told him, that they only tease him because they like him. But Byers could see some disappointment in his eyes and jumped in. 

“Actually, no, it was a good idea. For our future, the newspaper’s future.” 

All four men sat down in the living room with their coffees, and Byers began to explain Jimmy’s idea to Langly and Frohike. He explained how they could assist those who had fallen victim to identify theft on the internet, and use their newspaper to advertise their services. They would not be “abandoning” The Lone Gunman newspaper, just changing the focus to better target today’s audience. Everyone was quiet for a moment, pondering the idea, and something clicked for Langly. “We would be better than the cops because we could use…. less than legal methods of catching the thieves and could even re-steal stolen money back from them! We’d be like vigilante hackers.” He smiled, obviously excited about the idea. 

Frohike had been quiet, but after a moment he shrugged his shoulders and said “Count me in. I’m tired of putting my neck on the line week in and week out, breaking my body in a new way every time we have a story, all for two hundred readers and no profit. Fraud and identify theft sounds a lot less painful, and I’m not getting any younger. When do we start?”

Jimmy smiled, beaming with pride that the guys had liked his idea. 

“I could easily hack into the police records and find some fraud cold cases” Langly replied. “We could try to solve a few pro-bono just to get our feet wet and go from there. We wouldn’t even have to travel for most of this stuff, it’s all on the computer. Which would free up time to keep working on the paper.”

Byers was relieved that everyone was on the same page. Nobody thought they were abandoning their dream, only revising it to be more profitable and more helpful to those who really need it. 

What none of the gunmen realized was that all of them were feeling the same sense of relief at that moment. As time went on, and profits fell into debt and newspaper subscriptions dropped, they were all faced with the realization that if the Lone Gunman paper was discontinued, they would have to come to terms with the reality of their lives. They were four single men living together in a basement office with no backup career paths and no family to go home to. Their business was the glue that held them together, and without it, they might eventually part ways. As unconventional as their living situation was, they all took comfort in it, and were scared at the possibility of losing it. They were a family and had been for a long time. And this new business venture would keep the family together. 

Langly’s headache had finally eased, and he began to throw out names for the new family business as quickly as Frohike could shoot them down. 

“How about, ‘The Anti-Fraud Squad’.”

“No.”

“The Internet Fraud Firing Squad.”

“No…”

“What about, Identify Thief Relief!”

“Why does it have to rhyme, Langly?”

“Fine, how about Langly & Friends Fraud Protection?”

“Good grief….”

“Hey that’s a good one... The slogan could be “Thief giving you grief? Need relief? Call the Langly & Friends Fraud Squad!”

Frohike stood up saying “Yep, that’s the one...” and rolled his eyes, giving Byers a grin on his way out of the room. Truthfully, Frohike would let Langly name it whatever he wanted, if it meant he kept his friends all together, even Jimmy. Their little family meant everything to him. In a former life, Frohike had already loved and lost, and at his age, he didn’t expect to ever settle down with a wife or have kids. He was content doing what he felt was important, which was helping people and helping his friends. And if that meant he would be co-founder of the newly minted Langly Fraud Squad, that would be enough. 

Langly realized nobody was listening to him anymore so he grabbed a notebook and began to write down all his brilliant company slogans so they wouldn’t be forgotten. He was more than a little enthusiastic about the new endeavor because he felt that his personal skillset would be the most useful and he would have a little more say in the decision making. He had been feeling the pressure on them all lately, and was concerned that Byers, the glue that held the Lone Gunmen together, would eventually call it quits. He’d never admit it, but Langly was not fond of most social interaction and the idea of their small family breaking up gave him anxiety. All four of the gunmen now had a new glimmer of hope to hold onto… so maybe he should put on some pants? His stomach was still feeling a little off, but he felt well enough to pick through his clean laundry for something better than a sweaty bathrobe. They had all spent three days wasting away and now Langly felt a rush of productivity coming on strong. 

Byers had the same idea, and went into his room to put on a clean suit for the first time in days. There was nothing better to Byers than a clean pressed suit and well-matched tie. He went with his favorite diagonally striped tie (the one Susanne had complimented him on all those years ago) and went back to the living room to start planning. Jimmy was there picking up the coffee cups and gave Byers that big classic smile of his. 

“You look like you’re feeling better. Everyone does! That’s so awesome, I guess the bug is finally gone.”

Byers walked with him to kitchen. “Jimmy, I wanted to thank you again for looking after us, and for the great idea for the business.” Jimmy waved him off, but Byers continued, “I wanted to ask if you were sure, really sure, you want to stay here with us?”

Jimmy's face dropped and he hesitantly asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, what I mean is, you came here originally to help us financially.. you spent your whole life savings helping us with the newspaper and now you’re just as broke as the rest of us. Don’t you think you might owe it to yourself to go find... I don’t know, a real life? You’re still much younger than us, and who knows if this new venture will even pan out. I just don’t want you to have any regrets." Byers finished, instantly wishing he could take all those words he just said and put them in the garbage disposal. He didn’t want Jimmy to leave. 

Jimmy was quiet for a moment and genuinely seemed like the idea had never occurred to him. Finally he replied.

“Byers, I joined you guys because you fight the lost causes. You do what nobody else has the courage to do. And you’re my best friends. Why would I want to leave that?”

Byers just smiled. “Glad to hear it”, he said, giving Jimmy a small pat on the arm as he walked back into the living room, where he could hear Langly loudly informing Frohike- 

“No we are NOT calling ourselves the Fro-Bro’s!”


End file.
